


it's pure filth that i hide (time for genocide)

by nerakrose



Category: Havemercy Series - Jaida Jones & Danielle Bennett
Genre: M/M, Pacific Rim AU, an awful lot of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:52:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerakrose/pseuds/nerakrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thom is top boss of the kaiju pest control, Rook is forced into therapy and Balfour runs the rumour mill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's pure filth that i hide (time for genocide)

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by mrs_jack_turner. I then made a fuckload of changes. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Title inspired by Deathstars lyrics.

"Can you believe this guy? Arrogant fucking bastard, shows up in fucking orphanages for TV and rescues kittens, thinks he's really great, but guess what _I've been inside his head more times than I can fucking count_ and it's all fucking fake, fucking idiot played the people like a fiddle all just for cunt and kisses." Rook paused in his rant only to dig his knife out of the tabletop. "And then the fucking moron got himself _killed_ -"

"I would advise you not to trash talk Amery where Balfour can hear," Thom said from behind his laptop. Balfour was nowhere near, but that was besides the point.

"- leaving me with only my own moron for a brother for company," Rook finished and pushed the screen down, glaring at Thom.

Thom gave him an unimpressed look. "You really should see someone about the way you're dealing with his death. You're destructive in your grief. It's not good."

"Thank you prissypants but I don't see _you_ risking limbs and sanity out there."

"That's all you got? Your comeback game is weak." Thom stood up and fished the laptop from Rook's clutches. "See you at dinner."

"Who exactly do you want me to see anyway?" Rook yelled after him. "I'm not fucking spilling my _feelings_ to Adamo like a fucking cindy!"

"There is one other person with a degree _and_ licence in psychology," Thom pointed out. "Go to him."

***

"Of course we're drift compatible," Thom sighed. "You know that. And _I_ know that there's not a snowball's chance in hell that Balfour and Rook will ever pilot a Jaeger together."

"And yet you refuse to join the corps?"

"What do you want me to say?" Thom took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "That I don't want to get in the drift with Rook _ever_ because of the repressed homosexual desires in our not-so-brotherly brotherhood?"

"It's a start." Marius emptied his pipe and started stuffing it again. "There _are_ rumours about you two, you know."

"It was one time!" Thom cried. "Before we knew we were brothers!"

Marius tutted and put the pipe down. He patted his pockets for his matchbox which Thom knew was in the top right drawer.

"I still think Kalim is our best bet for Rook."

"And _I_ think you're being far too stubborn for your own - well, not really. For the good of the people and the continued existence of the world as we know it." Marius finally stopped patting himself and started opening his drawers instead. "Really, Thomas. We are talking about saving the world here and you are childishly refusing to do something because you and your brother are both morons who can't keep it in their pants."

Thom hid his face in his hands. 

"Stop making those noises," Marius advised. He'd finally found the matches and the thick scent of pipe tobacco filled the office.

"Would it make a difference if I said KALIM repeatedly and in capital letters? Underscored? Flashing?"

Marius gave him a Look over the rim of his glasses.

"Look," Thom said, straightening up and trying for a semblance of professionalism. Or seriousness. He wasn't quite sure which. "Madoka injured herself and left Laure without a co-pilot for the next long while, Malahide lost her partner - she and Kalim _would_ be a good fit, admittedly, but she needs time to grieve, nobody wants to drift with Troius, unsurprisingly, and I fear Rook would kill him with his bare hands - or mind - if he so much as looked at him, and anyway I think our best strategy is to keep him in maintenance where he's of _actual_ use -"

"Thom."

"- so there's that. If need be we can put Laure and Rook together as a temporary solution, though I wouldn't bet on that ending well. Adamo might actually kill me. Hmm. We have three fully functional teams: Adamo and Roy, Kouje and Mamoru, and Antoinette and Anastasia. We have three half teams -"

" _Thom_."

"I know," Thom said miserably. "Save the world, blah blah, go pilot a Jaeger with your mentally disturbed brother because that's going to be a real _joyride_."

Marius sucked on his pipe and tutted. "And what of Balfour?"

"I don't know. It's frustrating. Greylace hasn't returned his field assessment yet, says it's not complete, more tests are needed, real hard nut to crack, et cetera. If only he wasn't so darn _gleeful_ about it." Thom let his head fall onto the desk. "I hate my life," he muttered. He knocked his forehead against the desk a few times.

"What's the Provost got to say about it?"

"Nothing."

"Did you even tell him?"

"...yes?" Thom sat up. "He's busy with the wall. I told him everything's under control _but_ the fact is there hasn't been a breach in _sixteen months_ , which super sucks because that's _ten months overdue_ , and Toverre and Caius might explode before the next breach if Ivory doesn't knife them first _and_ we only have three functional teams and if Toverre is right the next breach will send up triple the amount of kaijus and we are all _royally screwed_."

Marius let out a puff of smoke.

"This is _not_ about me and Rook," Thom continued after a while. "It's about the fact that for some reason no one fathoms _I_ have been left in charge of everything ever and right now I don't trust anyone else with the job and if I go out there and get us both killed then we've lost one of our best fighters and, well. Me. And professional pride aside, I don't want to die and I don't want to be in a fucking Jaeger and I don't like the sea. And the last thing we need is my brother worrying about not getting _me_ killed."

Marius sighed.

***

Rook made his presence at dinner known by stomping over to the table Thom was seated at and glaring at him.

"Sit down," Thom told him and continued to shovel in food with one hand and writing with the other.

"Don't boss me around," Rook snarled and put his fists on the table.

"Real menacing, Rook. Good job. Sit down and eat." Thom didn't even pause in his writing to look up at him.

Rook narrowed his eyes in a further menacing glare, but sat down. 

"Eat."

"I said -"

"I know what you said but your food will be cold and I'm busy. Whatever obscenities you want to send my way can fucking wait."

"You -" Rook shut up and leaned across the table. "You little shit."

"Mmmhh." Thom continued writing. Gravy dripped off his fork and onto the table.

"Caius Greylace," Rook said between gnashed teeth, "is a madman."

Thom spared him a brief look. With a raised eyebrow. They had more or less mastered the art of eyebrow language, and this one was saying "and you didn't know this how?"

Rook responded with a series of gravelly growls which translated into "don't you fucking be smart with me you fucking whoreson." That last part was Thom's own addition, but one he felt was completely in character.

"So you went to see him?" He didn't need to add "like I told you to", nor did he want to, as he very much preferred his nose intact. 

"He made me look at ink blots and then asked about my childhood and then implied my relationship with Amery was quote-unquote _extremely sexual in nature_ and then went on to say that _naturally_ I was taking his death hard because of my _secret romantic feelings_ for him which I _never got to express out loud_ before his _tragic passing_." Rook stopped to get his breath.

"It's true though, isn't it?" Thom said thoughtfully. He was still holding the fork in midair and gravy was still dripping off it.

"It's not!"

"Well," Thom said conversationally, "I suppose I could point out that you have an alarming tendency to jerk off while crying and moaning his name. Though I'm honestly not sure whether that's just because you can't separate sex and complicated feelings or just because you have a weird kink where you jerk off with your own tears to dead people."

"I'm feeding you to the sharks," Rook said and stormed away.

Thom polished off the rest of his meal and finished the outline he was working on. He was becoming a pro in the art of getting rid of Rook in the fastest way possible.

***

Four days, four fucking days before he got Balfour's damned psychological assessment back from Caius fucking Greylace. Right now Caius' only saving grace was the fact Thom had just had lunch (chocolate pie for dessert!) so he was in a relatively good mood.

Relatively.

After all, Balfour was in his office giving him a sad puppy look.

"Do you think," Balfour started, then backtracked. "Troius wants to be a pilot," he said. "More specifically, my co-pilot." He looked disturbed.

"Hmm." Thom gave him a look over. "You two aren't drift compatible."

"Maybe we are a little," Balfour said, extremely dubious. "I mean, he named his Jaeger IRON JAW." He shuddered. "Not that it's even _his_ Jaeger, but you know."

"We'll, do you _want_ to pilot a Jaeger with the man?" Thom asked.

"Not particularly. Although he _is_ my friend..."

"Geoffrey Bless was my friend until he wasn't anymore," Thom reminded him.

"A diplomatic way of putting it."

"Mmh."

"I'm not going to co-pilot a Jaeger with Rook though, am I?"

"Ah, about that. No. No, you're not." Thom shuffled his papers for want of somewhere to put his hands. "I believe at this point we've established that to not be a thing that should happen at any point in time whatsoever."

"Oh good." Balfour relaxed in his chair. "No offense, but your brother freaks me out."

"He's a very disturbed individual," Thom agreed. "I'm afraid we don't have any potential co-pilots for you at the present time."

"Oh. That's okay, I guess."

"We are understaffed and the volunteers aren't exactly...pouring in." Thom sighed. "Of all the people you're drift compatible with, and by that I mean the one person in our entire database, one is dead. So basically no one."

"Who's the one?" Balfour looked up from where he was pulling at the thread on his left glove.

"I'm sorry to say it, but it's your brother."

"Oh."

"You have a sister, don't you? She been tested?"

Balfour shrugged. "Mum doesn't want her to. Understandable, really, under the circumstances." He smiled. "I don't think we'd be compatible anyway."

"Shame."

"I'm going to, ah, unsubtly change the topic now," Balfour said. "So. Uhm. Gossip."

"Ahh yes, do tell."

"Word has it that Antoinette and Anastasia are secretly engaged, which is the lame rumour, and another word has it that they're the queens of a super secret underground lesbian orgy organisation, which is the cool rumour."

"Lesbian orgy organisation," Thom repeated. "Who's in on it?"

"If the rumours are to believed, every single female identifying individual in a five mile radius."

"Impressive."

"Word is _also_ that the actual queen of this lesbian orgy organisation is Nico."

Thom considered this. "I don't buy it."

"I know, right? Everybody knows it's Raphael, if anybody." Balfour grinned.

"Ah, Raphael! How is he? Last I heard he was healing well?"

"He's doing great, thank you. We're very pleased.

"I'm happy for you." Thom smiled. "I really am."

"Thank you." Balfour was still grinning, and now also blushing. "Speaking of, ah, significant others..."

"Yes?"

"There is word that, uh. You and. Uh. Rook and Kalim. Kinda. I mean -"

"What?" Thom frowned. "What?"

"RumoursgotitthatyouRookandKalimhadathreesome. Last week."

"Oh," Thom said. Then: " _What_?"

"I thought you would appreciate the information," Balfour said meekly.

"Thank you," Thom said. "It is of course, completely untrue. But you knew that, didn't you?"

"Well..."

"Oh, come _on_!"

"I _might_ have overheard Rook say to Kalim that the two of them should teach you a thing or two, though of course it was completely out of context and could have referred to anything but coitus."

Thom dropped his head into his hands. "Oh no," he said and laughed. It was the hollow laughter of a man who has seen too much fucking weird shit in his life. "That probably was exactly what my dear deranged brother meant." He looked up. "One of his favourite pastimes is insulting my sexual prowess."

"A disturbed individual, you said?" Balfour's mouth twitched into a small, amused smile.

"The very best of his kind."

***

Rook was a haunted man. Thom knew this because he shared a bunker with the guy and for the past week he'd been sneaking around like somebody who'd seen a ghost, had been severely traumatised by said ghost and was desperately trying to avoid ever seeing the ghost again.

Unfortunately for Rook, Caius Greylace was not a man to be deterred by such behaviour.

"I want you to know that I am truly desperate." Rook's eyes were wide in terror. "I am desperate, and fucked, and I wouldn't have come to _you_ in the first place, which just makes me even more fucked. And desperate, because I'm talking to you."

Thom crossed his arms over his chest. Fortunately for Thom, Rook had stopped being intimidating right around that time he found himself with his hand down Rook's trousers and Rook's mouth on his neck. Really, get off with a man once, witness him making the most awkward sex sounds _ever_ , and he just stops being scary to you.

It gave Thom an advantage in most situations. 

"Is this about Caius?"

"He is a disgrace. Infernal menace. _Wrong in the head_." Rook made a face. "He wants me to enter into some shit kind of therapy scheme for the next _three months_ and refuses to declare me fit for action until I've _fingerpainted_ the contents of my soul."

"Ah," Thom said. "I see."

"And then he wants me to make friends!"

"Well." Thom chose his next words carefully. "You don't have any friends."

"I have friends!" Rook protested.

"I don't count."

"We'll you're not my friend," Rook retorted. 

The silence that dropped between them was possibly the most awkward silence Thom had ever experienced. Thom glared at Rook. Rook only huffed.

"I meant like, Adamo and shit. Ghislain. Fucking Ivory. Luvander, Ace, fucking Raphael even, and Amery -"

" _Ah_."

Rook scowled. "And Kalim," he spat. "Kalim is my friend too."

"Having regular knife fights with someone doesn't make them your friend." 

"You know nothing of friendship oh friendless one!"

"I think it's a good idea." Thom pulled his laptop closer. It would be technically useless as a shield, but a man could try, right?

"You're meant to say 'oh Rook that's terrible let me talk to Caius and get you off the hook' and not fucking agree with him!"

"Mmh, but there's just one problem," Thom pointed out. "As you said yourself, I am not your friend, so I am under no obligation to help you." 

Rook glared at him.

"Besides, I think a rehabilitation scheme would be good for you. Sand off those edges a little. Make you less mean."

"I'm only mean because _you're_ mean!"

Thom gave him an unimpressed look. 

"Fine! Have it your way!" Rook stormed out and slammed the door shut after him. Well, tried to. Those thick metal doors were a little too much to handle for someone of Rook's physique, impressive though it may seem.

Maybe Thom should install a secret hot tub that only he knew about. It should have a bar.

***

There was this problem where nobody really was in charge. All right, so technically there was a person in charge - the Provost - but Dmitri was only really in charge because the Esar didn't want to (and there was the small matter of him not wanting to get his hands dirty, even when it came to saving the world), but the problem with leaving Dmitri in charge was that Dmitri didn't really _want_ to deal with the Jaeger corps, so he unceremoniously appointed Owen Adamo as chief sergeant under authority of the Esar (it held up legally, don't ask about the specifics), which lead to the actual problem because Adamo didn't give a shit about anything but his pilots and killing kaijus, which is how Thom got to be in charge of coordinating the whole thing. There were a whole lot of steps between Adamo and Thom and Marius was somehow involved, as well as Royston and Antoinette, and probably also the fact that Thom had written his phd about the Jaeger corps, but no one questioned it.

And then somebody had had the bright idea to hire Toverre for science.

So basically, Thom mused, it had to be either fate and her terrible sense of humour _or_ a series of extremely unfortunate incidents of bad luck.

Because what really happened, most of the time, was that everyone (yes, even Adamo, and Thom will never stop being weirded out by that) reported to Thom, but Thom reported to Adamo sometimes and Toverre reported to Thom and Adamo (in that order), the pilots all reported to Adamo and Thom (in that order) and somehow Caius Greylace had become an authority to report to as well, even if all he did was traumatise the pilots. And the prospective pilots. The psychological testing they underwent was somewhat unorthodox. What all that _really_ meant was that there wasn't really one single person in charge and instead they had this weird kind of dictator-democracy thing going on, in which Thom was the dictator.

Thom chose not to question any of it. Accepting his lot in life was much simpler.

"This is extremely distressing," Toverre said and laid out the schematics and maps and calculations on Thom's desk. 

Thom saw that Toverre had updated the colour coding.

"As you can see here," he pointed at a series of nonsensical pink algebraic calculations, "there is reason to believe we'll have a breach within the next forty-eight hours." He traced some pink lines on one of the maps and then shuffled everything to pull out another sheet. "We will be seeing up to _seven_ kaijus, most likely category threes."

"And you are absolutely certain?" Thom glanced at Adamo, who was standing in the corner of his office. Poor man had been dragged by the scruff of his collar - quite literally - by Toverre all the way into Thom's office. 

It was a wonder that Toverre was still alive, considering.

"I know you can't see it, but I am panicking," Toverre said. He had procured a spoon from inside his pocket and was frantically polishing it with a fine cloth. "I AM FREAK-ING OUT. WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE."

"Under normal circumstances I would assure you that you are not going to die." Thom cleared his throat. "However."

"Last week you said six kaijus," Adamo interjected. 

"Last week we were getting different readings from the breach!" Toverre flailed. "These new readings and calculations are 99% accurate, much as it pains me to say it. What I am saying is we need all hands on deck! Seven kaijus! SEVEN!"

"Thank you, Toverre. Could you please fetch Greylace for me?"

"I can't. He's out."

"Out?" Thom narrowed his eyes at Toverre. "What do you mean _out_?"

"He and Al are on a date of sorts," Toverre explained, voice oddly strangled. "He said that if we were all to die then he'd want to have no regrets."

"...I...okay. Thank you. When he comes back, please let him know he's needed in my office immediately." 

"Yes sir!" Toverre croaked and fled the office, taking with him all his precious papers, spoon and polishing cloth.

"Adamo?" Thom sighed. "Do we have seven battle ready teams?"

"No," Adamo answered. "You know we don't."

"Do we even _have_ seven Jaegers?"

"We have nine. Ten if you count the one down in repairs." Adamo sat in the chair previously occupied by Toverre. "We've three complete teams and a bunch of rags. Even if we manage to put together the rags in a meaningful way, we still won't get seven teams."

"So how screwed are we?"

Adamo shrugged. "Say a prayer and kiss your ass goodbye?

"No. I refuse to accept that." Thom stood up. "You go talk to the corps. Round up all the rags in the hub. We are putting together a fucking army."

"Mh. I'll make a few calls. I know a couple we can get in from the outside. Remember the Kiril base? I know a couple of retireds." Adamo stood up and held his hand out to Thom. "Let's get down to business."

"Indeed." Thom shook Adamo's hand.

***

There weren't seven kaijus. There weren't any kaijus at all, actually. What there actually was, was a bunch of disgruntled pilots high on adrenaline and coffee and with absolutely no outlet for their frustrations.

Adamo had called in a favour from a friend of a friend, or some such shit, and had gotten Lord Temur and Josette to unretire, to bump the number of teams up by one. Thom had paired Rook and Kalim, despite Caius' protests - it was a rather epic showdown of wills, actually, and Thom felt he'd gained a lot of new respect from basically everybody. Who knew that putting his foot down and pulling the PhD-in-behavioural-science-card would result in so much? Anyway. Madoka had declared herself fit for action and Thom let her, much to the distress of Wildgrave Ozanne. 

Five battle ready teams and they were ready to take down the damn hub, and no kaijus emerged and they were getting close to the seventeen months mark since the last breach. At some point the damn rift would just explode and end the world, Thom was sure.

"I'm afraid nothing is going to happen," Toverre said, examining the screens. "I'm sorry. I wish I knew what was going on, but the truth is... I have no idea."

"Fat lot of use we have for you," Luvander said, leaning over his chair. 

"Play nice," Adamo said.

"I'm sending everyone home," Thom said.

"Not before they've been to see me!" Caius quipped. "I shall need to do very thorough psychological evaluations of them all."

"I'm not fucking going," said Rook, glaring at Caius.

"Who let _you_ in?" Toverre asked Caius, noticing for the first time that he was there.

"Enough!" Thom slammed his fist into the table, having had enough. Everyone fell silent. "Go home, everyone. And you," he turned to Rook, pointing at his chest, "are coming with _me_."

"Excuse me," Caius started, but was interrupted by Rook and Thom both.

"No," Rook said.

"No," Thom said.

"Fuck off," Adamo said.

And thus ended the not-a-seven-kaiju-event.

***

Half an hour after everyone had been dismissed, there was a breach. Antoinette and Anastasia were the first people in a Jaeger, so they went out - battle ready and murderous - and out crawled a tiny kaiju the size of a house. Killing it was almost like kicking Bambi, it was so pitiful.

The news reached Thom at a very delicate moment; Rook had Thom's dick in his mouth and things were getting really heated. The poor person who brought the news was undoubtedly scarred for life, Rook was pissed off, Thom was positively murderous and when he stormed back to the control tower, he could've waded into the sea and killed the damn thing with his bare hands.

***

Toverre declared the next four months kaiju-free and Caius decreed that the Molly brothers were getting family therapy.

"The aim of this process is to prepare you two for the drift," Caius said, folding his hands together. 

Thom and Rook stared at him.

"Who authorised you for this?" Thom asked. "I'm top boss. I didn't authorise this. I'm cancelling this authorisation."

"I did," Caius simply answered. "It is my conviction that the corps would be best served with you two piloting _together_. It is my ethical duty to ensure this. The fate of us all depends on it."

"With all due respect," Rook snarled, "by which I mean none whatsoever. I don't think the fate of the world has anything to do with _us_."

"I agree," Thom added, and decided to derail the conversation. "Rook and Kalim are a good fit, it turns out. They do well in all the tests and get along, if you call knife fights getting along."

"It's getting along! I've _told_ you," Rook muttered. "We're _friends_ and all." He gave Caius a defiant glare.

"There is also the small matter of me not wanting Rook inside my head," Thom pointed out. "I won't presume anything, but I don't believe Rook is interested in having me inside his head either."

"Damn straight!"

"Boys," Caius said. "So delightfully stubborn. Very well. We shall begin." He stood up and went over to a chest of drawers, from whence he procured a small set of cards.

"Begin?" Rook demanded. "We're not going to drift!"

"Mmh," Caius answered in an irritatingly non-answering way.

"Well?" Rook had unsheathed the knife he'd won from Kalim just last week, and was flicking it against his thigh.

"Regardless of whether you are going to drift or not, you _are_ getting therapy," Caius said. "It is a disgrace to this station that the two of you are so terribly uncommunicative and frustrating in your dealings with each other. I am going to fix it."

Thom sighed. "Is there going to be fingerpainting?"

"That remains to be seen," Caius answered, tilting his head. "Shall we begin?"

Rook glared at him. Then he turned his head and glared at Thom. Thom held up his hand in front of Rook's face, palm facing outward.

"Excellent!" Caius' voice had a shrill in it which Thom had long learned was an accurate indicator of his being thrilled. "What an excellent display. We shall start there, I think. Now." Caius cleared his voice. He sounded oddly gleeful. "Thom, would you kindly explain what you are doing?"

"What? This?" He pointed at his hand, which was still acting as a visual barrier between him and Rook. "Do you really have to ask? Isn't it obvious?"

"Indulge me," Caius said.

"I'm putting a physical barrier between myself and Rook," Thom said. "I've found it to be very effective in the past."

"And why do you feel the need to put up such a barrier?"

"Well," Thom said. "His face puts me off."

"Oi!"

"And it helps me pretend he's not really there," Thom added.

"Interesting," Caius said, now taking notes. His pen was a large, pink feather. It had glitter on it. "Do you wish he were elsewhere?" When no answer came forth, Caius looked up. His one good eye flickering between Rook and Thom. "Well?" He said. "Do you wish your brother away?"

Thom sighed. "Not really, no," he answered. He lowered his hand. "Now that I have a brother again I'm not really interested in not having a brother again." He stood up. "And that is all I have to say on the matter."

"Family therapy only works if both parties are present," Caius protested.

"Rook, do you object to my leaving?"

"No," Rook answered. 

"There you go. We even agreed on a thing. See you later. I have work to do."

"I take it back," Rook said. "I don't want to agree with you on anything."

Thom had a very strong urge to throttle his brother. "I have a very strong urge to throttle you," Thom said. "Let it be stated for the record that I'm only refraining from doing so because we can't afford to thin out the Jaeger corps."

"You're a terrible baby brother," Rook replied. "The worst."

"Your comeback game is still weak," Thom retorted. "You can do better. Repeat after me: You're a menace to society. Substitute 'you' for 'I'."

"Do I look like an idiot to you?" Rook snarled, holding a blade to Thom's throat.

Thom regarded him calmly. "I dare you."

"Deathwish," Caius muttered as he scribbled on his notepad.

"Wrong," Thom said. "It's only a deathwish if, A) I want to die, and B) there's any danger of me actually dying."

"Who're you calling a coward?" Rook went all up in Thom's face. He was so close that their noses almost touched. 

"I didn't imply you're a coward." Thom folded his arms over his chest. "I won't deny I think you are one, in certain contexts. But not now, not in this - I simply don't believe you will slit my throat or in any other way harm me."

"I so would!"

"This from the man who makes sure I don't fall asleep on my dinner. Thank you, Rook, I'm touched."

Rook scowled and took a step backwards, taking the knife with him. "I only do it because you're a moron. It's a wonder you've managed on your own for the past twenty years."

"I missed you too, bro," Thom said. 

"That's _not_ what I meant!" Rook glared at him. Thom let his mind drift towards his secret plans for the secret hot tub. 

"Gentlemen," Caius said, and cleared his throat. "I detect very strong brother issues."

"No shit," Rook said. "No fucking _shit_."

"What he means," Thom translated, "is 'yes we do in fact have brother issues'. Might I remind you that we were separated at a very early age and only reunited a couple of years ago, and not under the best...impressions."

Caius regarded them both. "Are you referring to your sexual relationship?"

Thom thought he'd look great with a monocle. It'd suit his evil psycho sadist image. "We _do not_ have a sexual relationship," he insisted. It wasn't a relationship if the second time they even had sex neither of them got off, right? Never mind the reason _why_.

Rook was uncharacteristically quiet. Good. Best let Thom handle this one.

"Ah, but I believe there have been occasions?" Caius said smoothly. "At a party? On a balcony? It was public, boys. Word spread."

"Ah," Thom said. "That. Well."

"A one time thing," Rook spat out. "We got some shit out of our systems and that was it."

Good boy Rook, Thom thought.

"Interesting definition of 'one time'," Caius mused. 

Thom cleared his throat. "One time. Of course, a few weeks later we discovered what we were - are - to each other, which of course puts any further sexcapades out of the question," Thom added. "So, really. We do not have a sexual relationship. It rather implies an ongoing thing, don't you think?"

Caius regarded them. Yup, definitely a monocle man. Thom would have to gift him one at the earliest present opportunity. "Interesting," he said. "Now, allow me to challenge you - say you never discovered your familial bonds. Would you then have had such a relationship?"

Rook and Thom glanced at each other. 

"I don't do relationships," Rook declared.

"Liar," Thom contested. "You had one with Amery."

"Kind of not really!" Rook flailed. "Amery had his head so far up his arse it came back out the other end! Dude had no time for that kind of shit. We didn't have a goddamn relationship. We were goddamn pilots."

"In that case," Caius said, "I believe it is safe to conclude that your longest standing relationship is that to your brother." He held up his hand as Rook started protesting. "I did not say sexual or romantic. But you two - well, let's put it this way. You're in therapy for a reason."

"The reason being that you're a nut job," Rook said.

"The reason being, I believe," Thom interjected sourly, "that we need to repair whatever flaws we have in our relationship so that he can stuff us in a Jaeger."

"The Jaeger is the ideal end game," Caius agreed. "But I do believe everyone here would benefit from you two sorting out your kinks and becoming better communicators. Imagine, your moods might actually improve!"

Thom snorted. "If you ever think Rook is going to turn into a ray of fucking sunshine, you're wrong."

"And you're such a joy to be around yourself," Rook bit back.

"All right, session terminated." Caius stood up. "No fisticuffs in my office. Now, here's your homework. See me here next week, same time." He handed them each a sheet of paper with written instructions.

"Fingerpainting?" Rook groaned. "Last time I couldn't get the damn shit paint off my fingers for days!"

***

No kaijus show up, no new pilots volunteer and Rook and Thom dutifully, but not willingly, go to therapy sessions with Greylace.

"Perhaps we ought to change focus," Caius said one day, "and work toward reconciling your sexual interests with your brotherhood."

Thom stood up and left.

***

"I spoke to Dmitri," Marius said. "We might lose our funding altogether."

"You're not serious." Thom took his glasses off and pinched his nose. "You _can't_ be serious."

"I'm sorry. It's the lack of kaijus lately. We're all seeming a little superfluous." 

"At least you're not needling me to hop into a Jaeger with Rook," Thom muttered. "Like just about every other person on this planet."

"I could always do it if it makes you feel better," Marius offered. "But it would be a waste of my time." 

"Did you hear Greylace put us into family therapy?"

"And how's that going for you?"

"It's not. Not really. We are a terrible family." Thom leaned back in his chair. "Doesn't help that I actually really want to bang him." 

Marius raised an eyebrow.

"There's no denying it anymore," Thom sighed. "But Rook doesn't need to know that."

The silence between them fell heavy.

"Our relationship is crap as it is," Thom continued. "We don't need to add complications. I'm happy enough that I've got my brother back."

"If you say so," Marius said and offered him a pipe. 

Thom declined it. "He seems to have let go of his fixation with Amery," he said at last. "I suppose whatever Caius is putting him through is working."

"Does it make him more bearable to be around?"

"Ah, no. Unfortunately not."

***

"Your brother is a real bundle of joy," Balfour said, looking particularly sour.

"He piss in your boots?"

"Oh, nothing so juvenile. I think he's growing up." Balfour frowned. "Wonder of wonders. No," he continued, "I think whatever Greylace is putting him through is taking effect."

Thom froze. "Oh gods. It's about the finger painting, isn't it?"

"It's about the finger painting," Balfour confirmed. "It was all I could do to keep Raphael from murdering him."

"He wouldn't."

"Well, it wasn't just _my_ door that was vandalised," Balfour pointed out. "Though what on earth compelled him to do it, I don't know. Did we do something to offend him?"

"Oh, hardly." Thom shrugged. "Apart from being your wholesome selves, I wager. Rook takes offense at anything remotely resembling happiness. I hear you got engaged?"

"Balls."

"So it's true?" Thom raised an eyebrow in question. 

"Ah, yes. Weren't gonna go public with it, but… word got out, I suppose." He sighed. "We're all going nuts, you know that? Stir crazy. Greylace worst of all. He's got half the unit in therapy these days, for no reason at all."

"Don't I know it," Thom muttered. "Anything else new? What happened to the lesbian orgy?" 

"That one fizzled out. Now the rumour has it that Kalim and Malahide are about to tie the knot."

"What?" 

Balfour nodded. "I think it's actually true."

"That came out of nowhere!"

"No, you just didn't pay attention." Balfour smiled. "And anyway the Rook and Kalim rumours kinda disguised it all. No one was watching Malahide when they could be watching Rook, you know?"

"And now everyone is watching me and Rook," Thom concluded. "I thought we were here to kill kaijus. Instead we gossip."

"Well, when there's nothing else to do, people fuck and gossip. It's the way of life."

"I'll drink to that." 

"So what _is_ it actually with you and Rook?"

"Complicated, is what it is," Thom answered. "I have no idea. Shit happens. We're stir crazy, you said it yourself." 

"Mh," Balfour said, and turned away from the subject.

***

"We need to talk," Rook growled. His face was very close to Thom's face.

"Is this about the assignment Caius set us?" Thom asked calmly. He brought his mug to his lips and took a small sip. "Because I'm not going to make collages with you."

"We need to _talk_." Rook glared. "Right now." 

Thom looked around the control tower. It didn't look like they were under imminent kaiju attack, but then they never did. The only person around was Toverre, who was muttering to himself in a far corner. "Here?"

"In private."

"This doesn't bode well." Thom eyeballed Rook, but then sighed and got up. He closed the laptop and tucked it under his arm. "Very well then." 

Rook all but bounced all the way down to their bunker, like a veritable ball of energy. 

"What's got you like this?" Thom asked. "Did you have redbull for breakfast again?"

"Shut up," Rook said and pushed Thom into their bunker and shut the door. "Sit down." 

Thom set his laptop down, then complied. "What's the matter?"

"Shut up," Rook said again. He was pacing in their small space.

Pacing. Fisting his hands and occasionally fixing his hair behind his ear as a particularly stubborn lock kept falling down.

"Rook," Thom started, but was cut off.

"We're brothers," Rook said, whirling around to face Thom.

"Ye-es?" Thom answered slowly. 

"But we're also - well. Not exactly." Rook narrowed his eyes at Thom. "Whatever. I thought you didn't want that shit."

"Very eloquently put," Thom said. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm fucking talking about," Rook said. "So let's put it straight. Either we fuck or we don't."

"Ah," Thom said, weakly. 

"What's it to be?" 

"Well." Thom wet his lips. "We should perhaps discuss the ethics -"

"Fuck the ethics," Rook said. He was, surprisingly, not shouting. Or snarling. Or looking murderous. What wonders did Greylace work on him? "Ethics are out the window. If they weren't already the first time, they certainly were the _second_ time." 

"I suppose so," Thom answered. "Fuck." He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "Look, I didn't think…I don't know. I don't know, Rook. It's a mess."

"I know. And we're going to fucking clean it up." 

"We're brothers!" 

"It didn't stop us the first time," Rook pointed out. "And shit's been fucking miserable."

They looked at each other, each as stubborn and strong minded as the other.

"What do you want?" Thom asked eventually.

"I want both," Rook answered. " _Both_. It's fucked up and it's crazy, but I don't fucking care."

"And if you can't have both?" 

"I don't fucking know. Fuck." Rook sat down next to Thom. "You're such a little shit, you know that?"

Thom smiled. "I know." He touched Rook's shoulder. "I want it too. But," he added, "it's more important for me to have my brother around. You get that?"

"Yeah." Rook's voice was rough. "I get that."

***

Toverre came knocking just as Rook and Thom were sharing a cigarette after some very vigorous mattress activities.

"Yeah?" Thom called out, unwilling to get up to answer the door.

"It's important!" Toverre's voice was muffled by the thick steel that lay between them, but he sounded more shrill than normal.

"Is it a breach?" Thom yelled back.

"No! It's worse!" 

"For fuck's sake," Thom muttered as he climbed out of bed and stepped into a pair of trousers which might not actually have been his. He tore the door open, or what passed for it anyway. "How can it be _worse_?"

"The breach is gone," Toverre said. "It collapsed in on itself. It's _gone_." 

"Gone?" Thom blinked. " _Gone_ gone?"

"As in we all need to find new jobs stat, gone," Toverre said. "It's gone. Collapsed. Destroyed. No trace left." 

"...how is it gone?"

Toverre looked pained. "I think it was shut down from the other side," he said. "I can't find any other possible explanation."

"Gods," Thom said, and went back inside the bunker. Rook, who was still lounging in bed naked, was lighting a new cigarette. Thom took it from him and inhaled deeply. "This is bonkers." He exhaled and the air in front of him turned into a cloud of grey smoke.

"Ah," Toverre coughed. "I'm sorry, but the data doesn't lie...I'd like you and Chief Sergeant Adamo to come look at it. Perhaps the Provost should come too." He paused, his eyes flicking between Thom, half naked and smoking, and Rook, very much naked and calmly lighting a new cigarette to replace the one Thom had so rudely stolen.

"Wonderful," Thom said. He took took another deep drag of the cigarette. "I suppose the good news is that you and I are never going to pilot a Jaeger together," he said to Rook.

"And thank the fucking gods for that," Rook grunted.

"Call the meeting," Thom said to Toverre. "Let's find out how fired we all are."

THE END

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [You're Gonna Go Far, Kid](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8138134) by [capncrystal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/capncrystal/pseuds/capncrystal)




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